We have been campaigning for a Birmingham with better driving that is safer for pedestrians for years now – and it is not universally popular.

“Why don’t you leave drivers alone” I hear quite a bit.

In related news, I was disturbed by footage of a driver tearing along a Birmingham pavement – but not surprised.

Read more: Inside suburb where ‘road rage fist fights’ happen every day

The standard of driving I see in Birmingham is appalling. It doesn’t surprise me there has been a ‘concerning’ rise in the number of pedestrians killed on roads in the West Midlands.

Right now, in the West Midlands, cars are among the most dangerous weapons in everyday circulation.

Which is why we campaign about it.

The footage above shows a driver abandoning even the most basic rules of the road, mounting the kerb and accelerating through pedestrian space.

That moment matters because it breaks a fundamental boundary. Pavements are one of the last areas where people expect to be safe from vehicles. Once that line is crossed, the distinction between transport and threat disappears.

Frontline workers in the region, particularly those in public-facing roles, are increasingly dealing with aggression, intimidation, and unpredictable behaviour as part of daily life.

Incidents involving threats, violence, and disorder are described as routine rather than exceptional.

This wider atmosphere matters, because dangerous driving does not exist in isolation. It sits within a broader erosion of respect for shared space, rules, and other people.

Seen in that light, the driver mounting the pavement is not just reckless. They are symptomatic.

Across the West Midlands, the use of vehicles in ways that endanger others is becoming more visible and more extreme.

Recent incidents underline this trajectory. A hit-and-run involving a stolen car killed a two-year-old child in Smethwick. In another case, someone crashed into a home and had it away on their heels.

It’s all part of a catalogue of harm in which cars are the central instrument.

The uncomfortable truth is that cars possess all the characteristics of weapons. They are heavy, capable of high speed, and widely available. When misused—even for a few seconds—they can cause catastrophic damage.

The difference is not capability, but perception. Society still treats most dangerous driving as a lapse rather than a potentially lethal act.

When aggression becomes normalised in everyday settings, the threshold for risk-taking behaviour drops.

Cars offer distance. A driver is physically separated from those they endanger. That separation can reduce empathy and increase recklessness. It is easier to mount a pavement at speed when the people on it are reduced to obstacles rather than individuals.

The upshot is the same – if you end up killing someone, whether it is with a car or a knife, they still die. Their families still wake up the next day devastated.

What ties these strands together is a sense of diminishing accountability. The driver in the Birmingham footage appears unconcerned about consequences.

Likewise, in multiple recent incidents, drivers have fled the scene after causing serious harm. This behaviour suggests not just poor judgment, but a belief that the rules no longer apply in any meaningful way.

That is what makes the situation so serious. When a powerful machine like a car is combined with a culture of impunity, the risk multiplies dramatically.

In the West Midlands today, the most dangerous weapon is not something exotic or rare.

It is the ordinary car, used without regard for anyone else.